


A Drop of Fire - Part II

by flamethrower



Series: Re-Entry: Journey of the Whills [15]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, GFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ve allied yourself with Sidious?”</p><p>“Not necessarily an alliance.  More of a…passing acquaintance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Drop of Fire - Part II

**Author's Note:**

> I keep forgetting beta credit. BAD FLAMETHROWER. Beta props to writestufflee, merryamelie, C, and lauranna!
> 
> Check end notes for a (SPOILER) picture based on the story. Seriously, read the chapter first. *G*

Qui-Gon Jinn woke up, which was a bit of a surprise.  When the transport’s hulls had been blown out under heavy fire, he’d honestly thought that dropping into a hibernation trance—on the off-chance it might save his life—might well be one of the last actions he would ever perform.  The attack on the transport had happened so fast, so suddenly, that even opening the bond for something as simple as a farewell had proved impossible.

He was miserably cold, a strong chill that was bone-deep.  If he had been pulled from the ship’s wreckage, it had not been long ago.  His senses were addled, which meant injury, or…

When he recognized the face peering down at him, Qui-Gon realized it was probably sedation, not injury, keeping him from being able to concentrate enough to touch the Force.

“Good,” the woman said, a cold, pleased smile gracing her sharp features.  “You’re not dead, after all.”

It wasn’t much of a shock to see her.  She’d spat hatred at Qui-Gon after the conclusion of her trial, swearing vengeance upon himself and his Padawan.

His throat was raw, but he spoke anyway.  “Hello, Jenna.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

Republic Date 5201: 2/18th

 

Quinlan Vos and a female Dressellian wearing a Judicial commander’s uniform were waiting to greet them as Obi-Wan, Rillian, and Anakin walked down the ramp of the FT-class Chiss ship.  _Ferrin tareon-_ class had quickly become an annoying mouthful, but Rillian hadn’t yet come up with a name to replace either designation.

“Why not call it _Misappropriation_?” Anakin had asked with a grin.

[There’s no need to be blatant or that heavily sarcastic,] Rillian had replied with a sniff.

“Here’s where the fun begins,” Quinlan said in a cheerful voice.  Obi-Wan eyed him, wondering if the quote was intentional.  Then he forgot all about possible quotations when half of Quinlan’s face was suddenly marred by blood and gore.

 _Fuck,_ Obi-Wan thought, quickly looking away.  The Dressellian officer was not much of an improvement as far as his prescience was concerned; she was shifting between fire damage and the sparkling ice-frost of a spaced corpse.

If Mace was right, Obi-Wan only had to worry about his prescience’s unwelcome company until tomorrow evening.  He was looking forward to that moment almost as much as he was looking forward to seeing his Lifemate again.

“Welcome aboard the _Noble Venture_ , Councilor, Padawans,” the commander said, inclining her head in a stiff greeting.  “I am Commander Pilar.  Judicial Forces is happy to lend our aid in this matter.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Obi-Wan replied, greeting her in kind.  “The Jedi are always glad to have Judicial’s assistance.”

“In this case, you’d have it even if you hadn’t asked,” Commander Pilar said, a small smile gracing her stern features.  “You’re the reason I have this command, Knight Kenobi.”

“I thought I recognized the ship class.  This vessel is part of the Yinchorri fleet,” Obi-Wan said, noticing a uniformed Yinchorri working with a humanoid officer halfway across the landing bay.

“It is indeed.  Our current complement is half-Yinchorri, with the remaining positions filled by various humanoid species.”  Pilar lifted her hand in invitation.  “If you would come this way, Knight Vos’s student is preparing a briefing.”

They followed her, with Anakin asking the question that had been piquing Obi-Wan’s curiosity, as well.  “If the _Noble Venture_ is part of the Yinchorri fleet, why isn’t a Yinchorri in charge?  No offense or anything, but you don’t have a tail.”

Pilar did not seem bothered.  “I am the only non-Yinchorri commander in our part of the fleet, actually.  All Yinchorri vessels have mixed complements, but the Yinchorri asked for me personally after reviewing my record.  I believe part of the reason was that they wished to make sure that their own commanders would know how to interact with a non-Yinchorri counterpart.”

“So, what’s the other reason?” Anakin asked.

Pilar’s expression morphed into a deeply accomplished look.  “When cornered by an enemy, I tore his throat out with my teeth when the power pack in my blaster failed.”

“Yes, that would certainly appeal,” Obi-Wan said.  Anakin went pale, while Rillian wuffed an uncertain comment about expedient methods.

Quinlan was smiling.  “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Vos,” Pilar retorted, but the snappish tone was contradicted by the flicker of pleasure in her eyes.

Pilar led them to the _Venture’s_ bridge, where Aayla Secura was waiting with her hands clasped behind her back.  She was dressed from collar to toes in leather.  “Nice,” Anakin complimented her.

Aayla blushed.  “Thank you.  It’s traditional.  Besides, I am apparently allergic to the fabric in our standard tunics,” she said, making a disgruntled face.

“Amazing how much better your Padawan gets at meditation when she is no longer itchy,” Quinlan said, giving Aayla a teasing smile.

“Yes, Master,” Aayla said, perfectly respectful while still broadcasting the air of the long-suffering.

“Padawan Secura, Commander Pilar says that you have a briefing for us,” Obi-Wan said.

Aayla straightened, treating the sudden formality as the signal it was meant to be.  “Yes, Master.”  She activated the holographic display on the status board, which showed the remains of the _Helian Var_.  “Master Jinn’s transport had made it just inside official Republic space before it was attacked.  Master Quinlan believes that our perpetrator is aware of the boundary issues in this sector, and was trying to keep the involvement of other parties to a minimum.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Pilar, who nodded.  “Yes, Councilor, I have been granted clearance in the matter of the Ascendency.  It was hard to avoid, as the Chiss commander, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, kept watch over the transport wreckage until the _Venture_ could arrive.”

“Very well, then,” Obi-Wan said, hoping that the necessity of communication wasn’t going to wind up with a bunch of senseless imbeciles trying to make their way into Chiss space.  He had the impression that the Chiss response to such incursions would be to obliterate the intruders without bothering to ask questions. 

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo was also kind enough to collect the bodies of the deceased, as well as their personal effects, so that everything could be returned to their kin.  That includes Master Jinn’s belongings, I believe,” Pilar told him.  “I am assuming that the other crewmen were not in the habit of keeping a lightsaber in their travel bags.”

Well, that was one minor concern taken care of.  “I’ll need to see that bag when we’re done here, Commander,” Obi-Wan said.  He nodded at Aayla.  “Carry on, Padawan.”

“Even though we haven’t been able to pin down her location before this, we’d heard whispers that Jenna Zan Arbor had plans in the works,” Aayla said, and then looked regretful.  “Sorry, Master Obi-Wan.  We honestly weren’t trying to use Master Qui-Gon as bait.”

Obi-Wan hid a smile.  “Aayla, if he’d known the situation, he would probably have _volunteered_ to be your bait.”

 “We just didn’t know which way she was going to jump,” Quinlan said with a shrug.  “But now that she has, we have a pretty good idea of where to find her.”

“They were not very subtle,” Aayla agreed.  “We found a distinct ion trail leading away from the wreckage of the _Helian Var_.  That trail has five possible outcomes.” 

Aayla brought up a new image, a sectioned display of five planets.  “The first two are uninhabited, incapable of supporting life, and show no signs of anyone having gone near them in ages,” Aayla said, pointing at two barren-looking worlds.  “The third planet is Corvolis, an agricultural world.  It’s habitable, but it’s quite a ways from the standard space lanes.  Zan Arbor likes her experiments, so she needs supplies, which makes Corvolis unlikely.

“The fourth has a low population density, but the atmosphere is toxic to humans, something Zan Arbor may not be willing to chance if a quick escape was warranted.” 

Aayla pointed at the last world.  “The fifth possibility has no recorded population.  The planet has a breathable atmosphere for most humanoid species, but soil toxicity has meant that colonization efforts were never attempted.”

“We’re pretty sure this is where we need to go,” Quinlan said.  “Number five is close enough to well-traveled lanes that supplies would be easy to come by, but the planet is otherwise ignored.  It doesn’t even have a name—it’s just designation RF-228.”

“How close are we?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Couple of lightyears,” Quinlan answered.  “Close enough that it’s just a short hop, but far enough away to avoid notice if she’s on the lookout.  Got anything from your end that would help us to confirm?”

“Nothing definite,” Obi-Wan said, brow furrowing as he regarded the planet in question.  Aayla obligingly enlarged the image, revealing a muddied brown ball with only a single ocean on its surface.  “There was one moment of brief, non-verbal contact.  He’s most likely sedated.”

[I think they’re right about RF-228,] Rillian spoke up.  [I mean, it just feels right, doesn’t it?]

“I would like to base our subsequent actions on more than the target just feeling right,” Pilar said in a wry voice.  “The feelings of Jedi often tend to be correct, but I would prefer some certainty.”

“I’m certain, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, his attention still focused on RF-228. 

“Very well.”  Pilar inclined her head again in acknowledgement.  “Shall we make the jump, Councilor?”

“I think going in, all guns blazing, would be a horrible idea,” Quinlan said, and then raised his hands in a fending-off gesture when everyone looked at him in consternation.  “What?  I’m allowed to be sensible.”

“Zan Arbor would manage to escape in that sort of chaos.  She’s slippery that way,” Anakin added.

“No space traffic, right?” Obi-Wan asked, glancing at Aayla.  It was always possible that Zan Arbor had made a second hyperspace jump, leaving them with an even bigger trail to sort through, but…he didn’t think so.

“No, Master,” Aayla confirmed.

“She would know immediately if a ship approached, then,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin snorted.  “Totally a trap.”

“Definitely.”  Quinlan crossed his arms over his chest.  “I’d say she wants Obi-Wan’s attention pretty damn bad.”

“Well, she has it,” Obi-Wan murmured.  “She may regret getting it.”

“May I ask a question?” Pilar asked, looking at him.  “I have heard you called both Knight and Master, Councilor Kenobi.  Which is correct?”

“I am officially a Knight.  I have not been named a Master, nor have I petitioned to become one.  I don’t care overly much what names or titles people refer to me by unless they’re also shooting at me,” Obi-Wan said in a wry voice.

Pilar looked pleased.  “That is a philosophy that we in Judicial Forces understand intimately.”

Obi-Wan returned his attention to the entire group.  “We’re going to spring the trap, but we’re going to spring it our way, not hers.  Right now she is expecting me, probably certain that Anakin and Rillian will be accompanying me.”

“That’s because we _will_ be with you,” Anakin said bluntly, and Rillian barked stern agreement.

“But, I don’t want her to know that we’ll have Quinlan and Aayla in reserve,” Obi-Wan added.

“Then we need a way to get down there without her noticing any of us,” Quinlan said, frowning.

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “I do want her to notice the three of us, but not the two of you.”

“How do we do that?” Aayla asked.  “Shadow the first transport with a second, smaller one?  I don’t know if we have the supplies necessary on the _Venture_ to rig a system that will fool long-range scanners.”

Obi-Wan smiled.  “We go in the same way Qui-Gon and I got onto Agnata.”

Anakin made a face.  “That wasn’t intentional, though.  That was a clusterfuck.”

“Yes, it was,” Obi-Wan agreed.  “But it was still an effective means of entry.”

Quinlan grinned.  “I never got to hear this story.  How did you guys get down onto Agnata safely, when at the time, _every_ approaching vessel was being shot out of the sky?”

“Oh, they shot us out of the sky, too,” Obi-Wan said.  “Ship practically disintegrated around us.  We had to freefall a good ten thousand meters to the surface.”

“And you want to duplicate that,” Pilar said in a flat voice.

“Should be easy enough,” Obi-Wan replied.

Pilar glanced around at the others:  Aayla was a bit pale, but resolved; Rillian seemed unfazed; Quinlan was excited; Anakin looked as if he jumped out of disintegrating ships every day.  “You’re all completely insane.”

“Yeah, we hear that a lot,” Anakin said, grinning.

Pilar sighed.  “I should be used to this by now.  The Yinchorri are much the same way.  What are you going to do if Zan Arbor doesn’t shoot at your vessel?”

“We can fake an emergency landing,” Anakin decided.  “Have Aayla broadcast a distress signal, since her voice is probably the least recognizable out of all of us.  If we set charges to blow the ship apart once we’re low enough in atmosphere, we can separate—Aayla and Quinlan can freefall down, using the wreckage to hide their presence.  Master Obi-Wan, Rillian, and I can make ourselves the obvious, visible survivors.”

“You’re not blowing up _my_ ship,” Pilar said, frowning.

“Too big, too obvious, too complicated,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. 

[I don’t want to blow up my ship, either!] Rillian howled.  [I haven’t even named it yet!]

“No, we can use ours.  Aayla and I have a bucket in the hold that we’ve been scuttling around in.  It’s not worth much aside from the fact that it’s airtight and flies,” Quinlan said.

“I don’t mind sacrificing _Rusty_ ,” Aayla agreed.

“You actually named it _Rusty,_ ” Anakin said, looking aggrieved.

Aayla shrugged.  “Blame Captain Obvious, there,” she said, meaning Quinlan.

“Just for that, you and Skywalker can go figure out the best placement of charges so that we can safely blow _Rusty_ apart without blowing us to bits, too,” Quinlan said, pointing in the direction of the hold.

“Great,” Aayla grumbled.

“Awesome,” Anakin said, practically skipping from the bridge.

“When we launch for RF-288, give us…” Obi-Wan looked at Quinlan, considering.  “Eight hours?”

“Sounds good,” Quinlan said.  “Enough time to sneak around, if need be.  If it takes longer than eight hours, we’re probably screwed, anyway.”

“If you haven’t heard us radio in for pick-up within eight hours after our departure, then you can come in with guns blazing,” Obi-Wan told Pilar.  “The Yinchorri complement will appreciate the opportunity for mayhem.”

“Acceptable,” Pilar said.  “In the meantime, Councilor, let me show you to the items you requested.”

Pilar escorted Obi-Wan and Rillian to a sealed room, where everything collected from the _Helian Var_ had been stored, including the bodies.  “We have limited space, so both the crew and their belongings have been placed together.  It’s cold-store temperatures inside, so I would advise you not stay long.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Obi-Wan said, stepping inside with Rillian at his heels.  The door sealed behind them with a hiss.  The cooling system kicked back in, sending an icy breeze through the room.

[It’s so sad,] Rillian howled, mournful.  [What an awful way to die.]

Obi-Wan glanced around at the bodies, most of which were showing the effects of explosive decompression.  Only two of the bodies bore signs of fatal blaster wounds.  “It’s not pleasant, no,” he said.  “Your Master either had access to a pressure suit, or dropped into a hibernation trance when the hulls blew.”

[Do you think he’s okay?] Rillian asked, as Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon’s pack.  It was the only one not yet paired with a body.

“He’s still alive.  Right now, that’s got to be good enough,” Obi-Wan said.  His lightsaber was resting on top of everything else, and he brushed his fingers over the leather-wrapped handle.  Qui-Gon had been wearing both his own lightsaber and Obi-Wan’s during the Tholatin petition, a quiet signal that all was well.

Obi-Wan was going to take his lightsaber’s presence on the _Venture_ as another signal that everything would be fine.

 

*          *          *          *

 

“All right, kid.”  Quinlan nodded at Anakin.  “Make it look good.”

Anakin snickered and set the ship to bouncing through the atmosphere.  The ride was rough for everyone inside the ship, but it was a very accurate representation of a vessel that was losing or had already lost half of its stabilizers.

“I’ve got a line on a facility,” Obi-Wan said, studying the readouts that the sensors were reporting.  “Part pre-fab, part permanent construction.”

“So, now we fly bumpy casual, and head in that direction without trying to look like we’re heading in that direction,” Quinlan said.

Rillian frowned up at Quinlan.  [I can’t tell if you really mean that or not.]

“Most of us can’t,” Aayla said under her breath, grinning brightly when Obi-Wan smiled at her comment.

Anakin lined them up, putting the ship on a port-side tilt to further fake stabilizer and repulsor failure.  “I think I’ve got a convincing limp going, but she might figure out that it’s on purpose when this ship breaks apart.”

“Appearances within appearances,” Obi-Wan said.  “She may be foolish enough to believe that _we_ will think we’ve performed a successful intrusion.”

[I didn’t think Zan Arbor was dumb,] Rillian said doubtfully.

“And she doesn’t think we are, either.  Remember, this is just about hiding Aayla and Quinlan’s presence, not convincing her about the lack of ours.”

“And that is why you do not play Sabacc with that man,” Anakin muttered, killing one of the sublight engines.  “Aayla, you’re up.  Remember, you are a terrified Republic pilot who doesn’t get paid enough to die for the Jedi.”

“Attention, attention, mayday mayday mayday,” Aayla began saying.  She did, indeed, sound terrified.  Obi-Wan didn’t think she had far to stretch.  The Twi’lek Padawan did not like the idea of freefalling in a broken ship.

The ship rocked; Anakin swore.  “I didn’t do that.  I think they’re finally shooting at us.”

“Maybe she wants you dead, after all?” Quinlan asked with a grin.

“No, wait, wait!” Aayla shouted.   “Please, this is an emergency!  Our repulsors are failing and we’re down a sublight—”  Aayla broke off when _Rusty_ shuddered as another bolt hit aft.

“Well, you don’t have to be our scared pilot anymore,” Anakin informed them, frowning.  “That was our transmitter.”

“Time for us to split up.  Anakin, controls are mine,” Quinlan said, sliding into the pilot’s chair when Anakin vacated it.  “You guys get into the hold.  I’m going to time the charges to blow when the next bolt hits us.”

“That should be interesting for whoever’s watching below,” Obi-Wan said.  “Force be with you, Quinlan.”

“And with you,” Quinlan replied, while Aayla nodded and forced an encouraging smile onto her face.  “Go!”

In the hold, Rillian was finally starting to rumble with nerves.  [I don’t want to do this,] she admitted.  [I mean, I _will_ do it, but I’m scared.]

“It’ll be fine, Rill,” Anakin said, adjusting his belt and pack one more time to make sure everything was secure.  “It’s fun!”

[There are _no trees_ here, Skywalker.  I’d be much more comfortable if I knew there would be something to grab hold of,] Rillian shot back.

“Even if you panic, you’ll be all right, Raallandirr,” Obi-Wan reassured her.  “I’ll catch you.”

The rear speaker crackled to life.  “In three!” Quinlan yelled.  “Two!”

The charges blew.  There was a moment when the deck underneath Obi-Wan’s feet dropped away.  Gravity and inertia took hold; his feet were solid on the floor for another moment right before they all heard the tortured shriek of metal.  Obi-Wan reached out and grabbed the anti-grav railing on the hold wall, snagging Rillian with his other hand when she missed her grip.  Anakin had already grabbed the rail on the other side of the hold, and had a grim look of determination on his face as the end of the transport began to tilt backwards.

The roar of the wind was incredible, making vocal conversation impossible.  _Remember, Rillian!_ Obi-Wan sent.  _When we see sky above us, all I have to do is let go._

 _But we’re falling at the same speed as the tail!_ Rillian replied, looking at him with wide eyes.

_That’s why we’re going to give ourselves a nudge up.  Once we’re out of the ship’s body, we can aim for the facility._

_This would be even better with wind suits,_ Anakin said, grinning.

 _So we could make our intent even more obvious?_ Obi-Wan asked.

_No, really obvious would be dropping in with a Yinchorri battalion._

_I like that idea,_ Rillian said.  _We should have done that._

Then the sky was clear and gray above them.  Obi-Wan let go of the railing; Rillian barked in dismay, but held onto Obi-Wan as he used the Force to get them up and away from the rear section of the now-deceased _Rusty_. 

 _There they are,_ Anakin said, pointing.  In the distance, they could see the forward section of the broken transport spiraling towards the ground, trailing fire.  _Quinlan’s good.  Can’t tell that spiral is under pilot-control at all._

 _Poor Aayla,_ Rillian sent, while carefully stretching out her arms and legs, catching the wind.  She was immediately jerked out of Obi-Wan’s grip, but the Wookiee no longer seemed alarmed.  _I changed my mind.  This is fun!_

 _Told ya!_ Anakin replied cheerfully.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Jenna Zan Arbor watched the monitors in the station’s command module, her eyes locked on the three forms that were falling quickly towards the rocky ground.  _Welcome, Obi-Wan,_ she thought.  She had learned well from her early clashes with Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.  The easiest way to get the two of them in the same place was to dangle the other as bait, like so much meat waiting within a hunter’s trap. 

She had been contemplating her moment of revenge for a long time now.  Plans had been set in motion well before her escape from prison.  She and Obi-Wan Kenobi might play a little game, with their mutual recognition of this obvious ruse, but the outcome would be the same, no matter what he’d planned.

Regardless, some standards did have to be maintained.  “I told you to shoot at them in a convincing manner,” Jenna said, without moving from her place in front of the bank of monitors.  Obi-Wan and his laughably young tagalong Padawans were nearly to the ground.  “I did not tell you to destroy their craft.”

The gunner was one of her recent acquisitions.  When Jenna turned to regard him, the man was sickly green and covered in a sheen of sweat.  “It wasn’t—I didn’t—their mechanical failure must have been legitimate,” he stammered at last.  “A ship in good condition wouldn’t have gone to bits like that from a single tap to the sublights.”

Jenna nodded.  It was possible that his words were true.  “Very well.  The goal of making sure they could not easily escape has, at least, been achieved.  Orsa?”

Her tall Duros companion aimed and fired a blaster bolt directly into the back of the gunner’s head.  “Dispose of that,” Jenna said, as the deceased gunner slumped over, a look of comical surprise locked onto his face.  Two of her staff rushed to obey; a third took up the gunner’s previous position to await further orders. 

“Were any other life-signs detected?” she asked.

“No, my Lady,” Orsa’s mate, Usan, answered in an oily voice.  “Just three life-signs were detected.  We were, of course, planning a small expedition to the transport’s crash site to make certain.”

“Do so,” Jenna said curtly, spinning on her heels to depart the module.  “Come with me, Orsa.  We have to prepare to welcome our new arrivals.”

“Yes, Lady,” Orsa agreed, his voice devoid of inflection.  Jenna did enjoy the fact that the Duros males were so easy to chemically manipulate.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Obi-Wan stood on a rise.  They were within the bounds of the complex, now, and the fact that they had encountered no further resistance was starting to make the back of his neck itch. 

“Oh, yeah.  Such a trap,” Anakin said, pursing his lips as his eyes darted from building to building.  “Do you sense Master Qui-Gon anywhere?”

“Not…specific, not yet,” Obi-Wan said.  He had a feeling that might soon change.  “He is definitely here, though.”

[And other people, too,] Rillian added with a thoughtful growl.  [I can smell them, but it’s weird—I can’t quite figure out where they are with the Force.]

“Same here,” Anakin said.

“Something new that Zan Arbor has cooked up, I imagine,” Obi-Wan said.  “She was always very good at that.”

“Yeah.  Remember that drug with the grand name?  Zone of Self-Containment?” Anakin asked.

“I do.”

[Me, too,] Rillian said.  [Well, now I do, thanks to Master Obi-Wan.  Is that the one that made you think everything was completely awesome and fine and calm, and that the universe was grand?]

“Yeah.  It was a really nice feeling,” Anakin admitted.  “I hope she hasn’t figured out that one again yet.”

Obi-Wan pointed to the largest building, one of the permanent structures.  It was several stories tall, easily the largest bit of construction in the entire compound.  He suspected it went down for several levels, as well.  “Might as well start with the hardest one to sort through.”

“And the fact that it seems to have the least bit of life had nothing to do with that decision, right?”

“Sarcasm is my job,” Obi-Wan told his Padawan.  “We know that one probably has the trap.  Might as well go inside before Zan Arbor figures out that we have extra players in the game.”

[Sounds good to me, Master.]

No one challenged them outdoors.  The warehouse’s main entry was unlocked.  They went inside, moving cautiously, and were not greeted by anything more vigorous than dust motes.

 _I know we’re supposed to be trap-springing and all, but this_ really _doesn’t feel right,_ Anakin sent, sounding unnerved.

Obi-Wan was feeling much the same way.  His instincts were clamoring, telling him that there was more going on than they were aware of.  _Listen well, both of you.  I am going to walk several paces ahead of you.  Follow along, but be alert and aware.  I think we may have to spring this trap in stages._

 _Yes, Master,_ Rillian said, as Anakin signaled his own agreement.  _What should we do if you trigger something before we do?_

_Escape.  Hide.  Sow destruction—whatever you feel is necessary.  Meet up with Quinlan when he and Aayla arrive.  Zan Arbor will hunt for you, but it’s Qui-Gon and myself who are her priorities._

_You think she wants to play you guys against each other?_ Anakin asked, sounding worried.

 _It would appeal to her sense of the scientifically dramatic,_ Obi-Wan replied.  _If she captures me, chances are she’ll take me straight to him.  We can use that._   Out loud, he said, “Let’s explore this level first.” 

The warehouse had a small anterior room with three other doors; opening the door in the center revealed that most of the warehouse’s upper levels were open.  Walkways crisscrossed the air above their heads, connecting multiple open-air platforms that looked to be used for storage.

“It’s always bloody catwalks, isn’t it,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself.  

“At least they’re not rusty,” Anakin pointed out.

“Not really helping,” Obi-Wan said.  He walked forward into the open area, the Padawans doing as instructed and remaining almost ten steps behind.

When the moment came, it truly was a surprise—he received no hint of warning whatsoever. 

Obi-Wan halted, and gestured for Rillian and Anakin to stop.  “Well, we’ve sprung something,” he said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Master, what’s wrong?” Anakin asked.

“Something sharp just pierced my boot,” Obi-Wan answered.  It felt like a needle, one that had to have been very, very finely crafted to have escaped his notice.  “Considering that my foot has gone cold and numb, I’d say that I’ve just been dosed with a sedative.”

[Not a poison?] Rillian asked, barking in dismay at his news.

“That would ruin her fun,” Obi-Wan murmured.  He didn’t dare turn around, in case there were more.  _No, I don’t think so.  Just…don’t move._

“There’s…uh, there’s more rising from the floor,” Anakin announced, startled.

Obi-Wan glanced down.  He could see them now, but only because the tip of each needle caught and reflected the faint sunlight coming through the warehouse’s dirty windows.  “It’s time for you to go,” he said, and lifted his hands.

Rillian grunted in surprise and Anakin squeaked as their feet left the floor.  “Up you go,” Obi-Wan whispered, as the cold feeling rushed up his leg and left the lower half of his body feeling utterly numb. 

“Master!” Anakin shouted in alarm. 

Obi-Wan winced when a second needle pierced his other foot.  “Damn.  Run!” he hissed, and finished his upward toss of the Padawans, dropping them on a walkway two levels above his head.

 _We’ll be back soon, Obi-Wan,_ Anakin promised.  _C’mon, Rillian!_

 _Stay safe, Master,_ Rillian said, and then they were both off and away, darting into the warehouse’s shadows.

Not a moment too soon, as far as Obi-Wan was concerned.  The sedative was overpowering him, especially with a second dose in his system.  He fell to his knees, and then onto his side, his vision blurring as the drug swept through his body.  He could have fought it, of course—Obi-Wan might have been able to filter out the drug before it had a chance to drop him, but that was not the point.  They needed to find Qui-Gon, and they needed to recapture Zan Arbor before she caused more trouble.

That didn’t mean he was actually fond of being the bait.  It just seemed to happen.  Often.

He was still conscious when she came for him.  Obi-Wan didn’t know if that was because she’d meant for him to be, or if his system, especially with its shiny new biological parts, was back up to its old belief in its superiority over non-phenol substances.  He rather hoped it was the latter.  There was an awful lot of Corellian brandy in the galaxy, just waiting to be imbibed.

Obi-Wan stared at a few pairs of boots, and then tracked the accompanying fuzzy forms upward until he made out Zan Arbor’s glacial beauty on one of the blurry faces.  “’lo, Jenna,” he wheezed.

“Now that is very interesting,” Zan Arbor said in response.  She knelt down beside him, accompanied by the faint scent of an exotic perfume.  “You should not be conscious.”

“Stubborn.”  The word was not much more than a puff of air.

“How wonderful to hear,” Zan Arbor said.  She sounded far too happy about that, but Obi-Wan had no chance to contemplate why.  The sensation of cold metal touched his wrist; a sharp injection followed, and blackness finally swallowed him.

 

*          *          *          *

 

“Wake up,” Zan Arbor’s nameless Duros companion barked. 

Qui-Gon lifted his head slowly.  He had not been completely unconscious, but saw no reason to let anyone believe otherwise.  It was one of his few assets at the moment.  It had not saved him from being secured to a chair in this underground, sealed chamber, but it did allow him to overhear that Zan Arbor was preparing for an incursion of some sort.

Between Zan Arbor’s sedatives and her sense-dulling drugs, Qui-Gon was not much recovered from the attack on the _Helian Var._   He was just relieved that he had not yet been subjected to any of Zan Arbor’s ideas about scientific inquiry.  Instead, he had been shuffled from one prison to another, with barely enough time and amenities granted for Qui-Gon to deal with the needs of his body.

It was not the Duros, but Jenna Zan Arbor standing in front of Qui-Gon.  She looked far too pleased, a sight that never failed to concern him.

“How do you feel today, Qui-Gon?” Zan Arbor asked, the very picture of solicitous concern.

“Like you exposed me to the vacuum of space,” he said bluntly.

“I do apologize for that.  It seems that the man I hired for weaponry had a heavy hand on the trigger.  Not only did he destroy your transport with his enthusiasm, he did the same thing to your partner’s ship.”  Zan Arbor shook her head.  “Good help is so hard to pay for.  I chose to void his contract, instead.”

Qui-Gon sucked in a breath, sparing a brief moment of sympathy for the deceased gunner.  “Obi-Wan is here?”  No sedative would be able to keep the fact of his mate’s death from him. 

Zan Arbor smiled again.  “It does please me when I gain your full attention.”

“You always have my utmost attention when you are near,” Qui-Gon said in complete sincerity.

“Ever the courtier,” Zan Arbor replied, amused.  “Even when I had all but drained the life from your body.”  She bent over and brushed her gloved fingers through the bristle on his cheek.  “If there is anything left of you when this is over, I will keep your good manners in mind.”

Zan Arbor straightened.  “In the meantime, I have arranged a visitor for you,” she said, and stepped to one side. 

Obi-Wan was seated across from him, confined in the same way that Qui-Gon was.  His head was slumped forward in apparent unconsciousness, his hair grown long enough now to shadow the upper half of his face.  The beard Obi-Wan had worn during their last communication had been shaved off, which was a bit of a disappointment—he’d been looking forward to experiencing that in person.

Qui-Gon felt his heart clench.  This was not the sort of reunion he had hoped for after the completion of Tholatin’s petition.

“I’ll even grant you a few moments alone together,” Zan Arbor told Qui-Gon.  “They will be your last, after all, and even I am not so callous as to deny you that.”

True to her word, Zan Arbor collected her Duros bodyguard and left the chamber, sealing the door behind her.  Qui-Gon forced his heart to slow down its fierce, panicked beating at Zan Arbor’s words.  It was nothing he had not heard before.  Right now, he needed Obi-Wan awake.

“Obi-Wan,” he tried, and grimaced when volume revealed that his voice, like his body, still had some healing to do.  “Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan’s head shot up, his eyes almost comically wide, as consciousness returned in what must have been a shocked rush.  Then he focused on Qui-Gon, and his lips curved up in a warm, glad smile.  “There you are.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help but smile back.  No, it was not the reunion he’d planned, but they’d had worse.  “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, well.”  Obi-Wan peered down at the medical cuffs that secured his wrists to the chair, blinking constantly updated information about his vital statistics.  “Huh.  That’s different,” he murmured, and then looked at Qui-Gon again.  “I missed you, and since you were taking such a long time in getting back to Coruscant, we decided to come and see what you’d gotten yourself into.”

“We?” Qui-Gon repeated, curious.  He didn’t think Obi-Wan would come alone, especially not when dealing with Zan Arbor.  His Lifebonded had outgrown such foolishness ages ago.

“Rillian and Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, smiling and wriggling two fingers.  Then he moved the same fingers again, just one more twitch.  Rillian, Anakin, and two extra Jedi, Qui-Gon understood.  “They’re probably out causing chaos for Zan Arbor’s hired hands.”

“Should we be looking forward to any more company?” Qui-Gon asked, heartened.  The situation was not nearly as bad as he’d feared.

“Oh, you know how it is.  Everyone else is busy,” Obi-Wan said, glancing around the room, taking in the utter lack of furnishings, and the dull gray, seamless walls.  Gravity was the only thing differentiating the floor from the walls and ceiling.

 _Judicial_ , Qui-Gon translated.  His mate was acting as bait, then.  Well, at this point, they were both bait.  It was not an untenable situation, despite Zan Arbor’s smug attitude.

Obi-Wan was looking at him again, sympathy on his face.  “You look awful.”

“Oh?”  He managed another smile.  “How bad?”

“Bruising, broken blood vessels.  You definitely need a bath,” Obi-Wan said with a teasing smile, and then sobered.  “No suit?”

“No time,” Qui-Gon admitted.  “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “I’m just glad you’re alive.  When this is over, I reserve the right to have a bit of a panic attack about the fact that I almost lost you.”

“Take a number; I reserve the right to panic first.”

Obi-Wan grinned.  “I love you.”

The door clanged open, shoved almost into the wall by the Duros before he climbed through.  He was followed by Zan Arbor, who greeted them with a smug smile.

“Close the door, Orsa,” she instructed, and the Duros complied, standing by it and waiting as Zan Arbor approached them.

“Well, I’m certain you’ll be glad to know that your irritating children have evaded capture,” Zan Arbor said.  “But don’t worry.  They’ll discover one of my biological traps in short order.”

Obi-Wan looked up at her with a too-innocent expression plastered on his face.  “Funny, I thought your habit of underestimating children was the reason why you went to prison in the first place.”

Zan Arbor seemed to contemplate his statement for a moment.  Then she slapped Obi-Wan so hard that his head rocked back. 

“Ow,” Obi-Wan grumbled, shaking his head and blinking a few times.

“Are you all right?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Her strikes have been improved by incarceration,” Obi-Wan said.  “That was a hell of a lot harder than the one she nailed me with after her trial.”

Zan Arbor smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement.  “I had hoped you would remember that moment.”

“You slapped me on camera,” Obi-Wan said.  “I have a _holo_ of that moment.”

“Speaking of things that have been improved upon…” Zan Arbor peered down at Obi-Wan in a way that Qui-Gon found intimately familiar.  “How do you feel right now, Obi-Wan?”

“It hurts, whatever it is that you gave me,” Obi-Wan replied, looking unconcerned.

“Be more specific, please,” Zan Arbor requested.  “Consider it your duty to science.”

Obi-Wan’s expression made it clear what he thought of _that_ , but he humored her.  Probably buying the others time, Qui-Gon thought. 

“It feels like you stuffed a colony of fire ants into my veins, and they are very busy eating their way into a new home,” Obi-Wan said.

“And the pain?”

Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes filling with his own bit of mania.  “Tickles.”

Zan Arbor raised an eyebrow at him, clearly disbelieving.  “That will never do.  Let us see how Master Jinn handles a double dose of my thorn-and-vine, shall we?”

“No!” Obi-Wan shouted, surprising both Qui-Gon and Zan Arbor.  “No,” Obi-Wan repeated, meeting Qui-Gon’s eyes.  “That would not be a good idea.”

“Oh?” Zan Arbor looked truly interested, now.  “Why not?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath.  “Extremely high pain tolerance, combined with an overactive endorphin response.  It’s a documented phenomenon, not a boast.  Your little gift is tolerable to me, but the same dose given to another would be…more effective.”

Qui-Gon appreciated that his mate was trying to keep Zan Arbor from poisoning them both.  However, he was not so sure that he was happy with everything that Zan Arbor was going to learn from this encounter.

“Is it a physical response stemming from your unfortunate meeting with a lightsaber?” Zan Arbor asked, with yet another pseudo-solicitous expression.

“Among other things,” Obi-Wan answered, frowning.  “You could have tested that on anyone.  Why me in particular?”

“Well.”  Zan Arbor made a show of studying her gloved fingers.  “I did need to keep you distracted until the second toxin had a chance to do its work.”

 _Second toxin_.  Qui-Gon felt the spit in his mouth dry up.  He was utterly helpless at a time when he could not afford to be!

To his surprise, Obi-Wan laughed while shaking his head.  “I should have known.  Well, since I know you are just waiting for me to ask:  What else did you give me?”

“Oh, something very special,” Zan Arbor replied, her smirk returning.  “I recreated it especially for you, and it has a name I absolutely adore.”

Qui-Gon caught the movement; he was not the only one who was clenching his fists, but Obi-Wan’s hands were white-knuckled.  “Obi-Wan?”

“The ants have competition,” Obi-Wan said in a mild voice.  “Well, Jenna?  You can’t gloat about it if we don’t know what it is.”

Zan Arbor frowned at the taunt, and then her expression smoothed.  “A certain benefactor acquainted me with a list of ancient toxins.  Some of them will never be made again; their ingredients are extinct and cannot be duplicated, even with the finest laboratory that money could supply.  In response to the unspoken challenge, I recreated those that could be made.  The original version of this particular toxin, once injected, activated the first time the subject felt anger.”

Qui-Gon felt the stirrings of true alarm when all of the blood drained from Obi-Wan’s face.  “What is it?”

“You fucking bitch,” Obi-Wan whispered.  “You recreated A Drop of Fire.”

“Name-calling already?” Zan Arbor shook her head.  “Your Master should have taught you better manners.”  She circled them, running her hands across Qui-Gon’s shoulders when she passed behind him.  “The old version...was clumsy.  It relied on a single trigger.”

Obi-Wan took another deep breath, but remained silent.  Qui-Gon noticed the sweat starting to break out on his mate’s face, and his worry ratcheted up another notch.

Zan Arbor halted her steps, so that she was once again standing between them.  She gazed down at Qui-Gon and said, “My version activates the moment the subject feels _any_ intense emotion.”

“You fool,” Obi-Wan hissed.  “You damned—the last time someone gave Fire to a Jedi, the entire fucking galaxy went to war!”

“War is good for business,” Zan Arbor replied without turning.  “I did promise you both that I would return the favor that you paid to me, multiplied a thousand-fold.  Not only do I get what I want, but so does Sidious.”

“You’ve allied yourself with Sidious?” Qui-Gon asked in disbelief. 

“Not necessarily an alliance,” Zan Arbor corrected.  “More of a…passing acquaintance.  Sidious shares a few of my interests.”

“You are a fucking idiot,” Obi-Wan said in a flat voice.

Zan Arbor only smiled.  “I’ll be leaving now.  Such events as these should be observed in safety and at a distance, to maximize impartiality.”  She strolled to the door, unconcerned, but turned before exiting the room.  “I do appreciate good manners,” she said.  “Thank you, Master Jinn, for not calling me horrible names.”

“Fuck off,” Qui-Gon retorted.

Obi-Wan started to laugh, and was still chucking when the door slammed behind Zan Arbor and the Duros with a chilling sort of finality.  “I love it when you swear,” he said.  “You always save it for the best occasions.”  Then he gasped, his entire body flexing upwards.

“Obi-Wan!”  Qui-Gon tried without success to free himself from the damned medical cuffs.  Zan Arbor hadn’t renewed any of the drugs in his system—he could feel his bond with Rillian again, but awareness was all he had.  Object manipulation was still far beyond his abilities. 

“Obi-Wan!” he cried, when his mate did nothing more than gasp for breath, his head thrown back so far that Qui-Gon was afraid Obi-Wan was going to damage himself.

Obi-Wan screamed and then swore viciously while panting for breath.  “Fuck, this is happening fast.  Listen to me, carefully, and do not interrupt,” he said, lowering his head to face Qui-Gon again.  “Fire is what the Sith used to feed to Jedi who were otherwise unwilling to join their ranks.”

“What does it do?” Qui-Gon asked, and immediately regretted it.

“ _Do not interrupt!_ ” Obi-Wan shouted.  His hands convulsed, fingers spreading, before he clenched his hands into fists again.  “Just…do not.  Listen.”  Obi-Wan took a breath that sounded even more pained than the last.  “Fire excites the emotional centers of the brain, pushing them to create a singular emotional response.”

“Anger?” Qui-Gon ventured.

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “Rage.  Uncontrollable _rage_.  The longer you fight against Fire’s effects, the more dire the consequences.”  He shivered, as if chilled.  “You lose logic and reason.  If you fight it until it overwhelms you, then you will fucking well tear apart anything that you perceive to be in your way.”

 _Oh, gods._   “But Obi-Wan, what—”

“Damn, but you never listen, do you?” Obi-Wan said, a bitter smile on his face.  “What Zan Arbor does not know is that there is a more acceptable outcome.”  The bitter smile vanished.  “You can escape the worst of Fire…if you embrace it.”

Qui-Gon found himself straining against the damned chair’s restraints.  “Obi-Wan, you can’t—”

“It does, of course, come with a certain downside,” Obi-Wan admitted, and then he was shrieking, broadcasting pain in waves that even Qui-Gon’s addled senses could feel.  He lurched up, back arching, head back—one of the medical cuffs snapped with a sharp crack.

Then it was over, as quickly as it had begun.  Obi-Wan slumped in place, and the room was silent except for the pounding of Qui-Gon’s heart.  For a moment, his only reassurance was the remaining medical cuff, displaying definitive proof that Obi-Wan was still alive.

“Ben?” he whispered.  “Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s head fell forward in a sudden snap of motion.  His eyes were ablaze—the brilliant, shining amber common among the great jungle cats.  Qui-Gon froze in place, his own breath stilling in his lungs.

“Obi-Wan isn’t here right now,” Venge said in a soft voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Veveco made an awesome picture for the ending of the story. Check it out here, but NOT UNTIL YOU READ THE CHAPTER!  
> http://veveco.deviantart.com/art/Obi-Wan-isn-t-here-right-now-428807188


End file.
